The Tragic Story of Purple Guy
by Tankasaurus
Summary: An unsolved murder and a birthday gone horribly wrong. You wouldn't think the two would be linked, much less that a pizzeria of all things, would be the birthplace of such terrors. The mystery unraveled. Disclaimer: this is not my theory, but one that I find to make the most sense. Credit goes to the creator, Scott Cawthon and the theorist OkiagariAndie of the YouTube machine.


She sniffed and wiped another stray tear from her cheek. Stupid kids, all of them. She sat hunched over on the edge of the curb, opposite the Diner. The sidewalk was cold, the icy puddles soaking through her frock. A station wagon scooted passed, leaving a chilling wind in its' wake. The girl shivered, hugging herself, as snot dripped from the tip of her red nose. She stared down at the puddle, her pale freckled face and tussled auburn locks were a striking contrast with her bloodshot eyes.

She heard the heavy doors of the Diner swing open. The smell of warm pizza dough wafted out; even from across the street, the heat grazed her numb skin. A parent with his son exited the restaurant, the little boy bobbing up and down excitedly, clutching a bright red balloon. The girl glared enviously at the boy, cupping her hands, trying to rub some sensation back into them. Her nails were chipped and rimmed in grime.

She whimpered to herself, hanging her head low. She was so alone. Unable to pay for food, and without a parent there to offer her comfort, she'd begun to cry. The local kids had laughed at her. She didn't care. They were just stupid kids.

Perhaps she was being petulant to some degree. She didn't care. It wasn't her fault that neither of her parents could take her here. She was content to sit in the corner with the little kids and doodle with them. Again, the rest of the kids had made fun of her. One of the boys had pulled her hair, and she'd smacked him... Then continued punching him, even as he lie on the ground, squealing like a pig. His mother had gone into hysterics.

That's why she'd been kicked out. One of the staff had said they'd be out to talk to her soon. That had been hours ago. She'd seen several kids leave already. The sky was growing darker. Soon the street lights would be coming on. Little flecks of snow began to fall. Yet still, she didn't want to go home. Her parents were stupid, too. Why couldn't they be like all the other moms and dads?

A car pulled up in front of her. She recognized it as the station wagon from earlier. It was a dark shade of purple, with black windows. She blinked, trying to see through her foggy, tear-stained lashes. With a teeth-clenching screech, the driver rolled down his window. He seemed to be in his mid-twenties, with a thick sandy beard, wiry blond dreadlocks, a pale complexion and a wrinkled forehead. He had a ratty cap over his head, shielding his eyes. He grinned, revealing stubby yellow teeth. "Hey, sweetie." He said in a voice so tender. "Wassa matter?" He wheezed.

She shifted uncomfortably. "Nothing, sir." She croaked, trying to stand up on her stiff legs. She tripped over the curb, stumbling on the icy ground. He lunged, gripping her shirt sleeve to stop her from falling. "Woah, hey. Careful, kid." He chuckled.

"Thanks," she said, forcing a smile.

His hand lingered on her shirtsleeve, along with his gaze. His head bobbed on his gangly neck, nodding to himself. He gave another shameless grin. She flinched. She wondered if she should point out how badly he needed to go to the dentist. He withdrew his arm, then glanced around, licking his dry lips. "Where are your parents?" He asked.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to staunch the budding tears. She sniffed. "I dunno." She breathed. She folded her arms over her chest in an attempt to look tough. "Don't care, either. They're stupid." She spat.

He chuckled "Not all grown ups are, I'm sure." He replied.

She was intrigued. It was very rare that any adult would talk to her like this. There was always this condescending tone whenever they spoke to her. As if they were belittling her even as they spoke to her. Plastering on a smile as they mocked her to her face. Maybe she was too proud, but she didn't care. She'd been raised under the notion that good manners and respect were free. And yet everywhere she went these... pathetic hypocritical bastards would act this way. It made her blood boil.

Soon, she realized that he'd been eyeing her for several minutes. His gaze seemed to pierce right through her. Suddenly, he grinned at her again. A genuine smile, not those obnoxious, nervous smiles that the adults would give her. She was hardly an intimidating child. Small, feeble. Often very quiet and soft spoken. That is, until she was pushed.

"Must be getting awfully cold, this time of night," he said. "Bet you could do with a ride home."

She shifted from foot to foot, noting that she really needed to pee. Yet there was something... off. She couldn't put her finger on it. The way he looked at her had made _her_ nervous. No one had ever done that before. It reminded her of how her mom would act around her dad. And the look he'd given her... there was a glint to it, similar to the one her dad often gave her mom. She had no idea what any of it meant.

But she could make a list. She was very good at making those. She was cold. She was hungry. She needed to pee. She didn't want to have to walk all the way home. And so, with little prompting, she'd made her choice.

She nodded, and stepped into the car.


End file.
